Out of Sync
by Cheryl W
Summary: The Winchester lifestyle left no room for bad luck, off days, mistakes, or accidents. Dean Angst. One Shot. No slash.


Out of Sync

By: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Dean or Sam, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: The Winchester lifestyle left no room for bad luck, off days, mistakes, or accidents. Dean Angst. One Shot. No slash.

Drinking wasn't a solution, of any type, Dean Winchester knew that. 'If it was, I'ld gladly join the ranks of the alcoholics of America,' he sourly thought as he finished his second glass of Scotch. Sliding his glass toward the bartender, he nodded toward the glass and watched silently as it was filled again with the amber liquid. Picking up the glass he sipped at the fiery liquor. No, he wasn't searching for solutions or answers or anything so grandiose. All he asked for was a reprieve, a reprieve from the truth that he had been denying for a whole month, a truth that was now screaming in his head, refusing to be ignored, a reprieve from the decision he knew he had to make, a choice that really had no options.

Some would say he was overreacting. That everyone had off days…even off weeks, that sometimes bad luck just happens. It was normal, human even, to make mistakes, for miscommunications to happen, for accidents to occur without fault. And that was OK, for those normal people out there in the world. But he wasn't normal, he wasn't working a 9 to 5 job, his lifestyle left no room for bad luck, off days, mistakes, or accidents.

There was the black dog that had taken a chunk out of his shoulder, Sam's sprained ankle, the dent in the Impala's driver's door. And that was just this week. If he was honest with himself, and right now the alcohol was acting like a truth serum, he knew it had begun to come apart weeks ago…even before they took one step into the asylum, before the not so good doctor added his own sick two cents to their problems. The brutal shove that Sam had given him in the bar at Rockford while he was "method acting", that had been flag one and Dean knew it. Just like he knew in his gut that he had been a topic of discussion between Sam and the junior shrink during that office visit. But he had let it all go because Sam was entitled to his anger.

Then things went all to hell in the asylum and any lies Dean had consoled himself with were shattered.

Hard on the heels of that shrapnel round came John Winchester's call, their split up, the scarecrow fiasco, their reconciliation, then he had to go and electrocute himself, forcing Sam to desperately grasp for a miracle that was more curse than blessing in Dean's book. And now this petty "bad luck." It didn't take a rocket scientist or a realist to see the writing on the wall.

This partnership wasn't working, maybe had never worked. They only wanted it to. Correction, HE wanted it to. But he was man enough to admit the truth, to call a halt to the charade, to speak the truth even if it hurt worse than when the reaper was ripping his very soul from him. He and Sam were out of sync and in their chosen profession that could be a death sentence that no faith healer could lift. Absently Dean rubbed his hand over his left forearm, the pain of the knife wound dulled by the alcohol but no way vanished. Had it been a bullet wound he could have labeled it friendly fire. There had been no possession, no malicious intent, no anger, just a mistake. He had surprised his brother and Sam had reacted with lightening speed. They both knew it was nothing but a mistake…and the end of everything they had been clinging to for the past months.

They could no longer sense each other, or predict what the other would do or say. They tripped into each other, spoke at the same time with opposite opinions, totally mis-communicated in the field, leaving their prey slip away or worse, get the drop on them. Somewhere along the way their dynamics had changed, had become all rough edges that wouldn't mesh together anymore. The knife wound was the beginning of the end and Dean wondered if they had been vainly fighting this fate since the asylum, this breakup of their partnership. Nor could he help but wonder if they had also only delayed his own date with the reaper. Sammy trying to off him in the asylum, then being offered up as a sacrificial lamb for the scarecrow then his electrocution, his number had been up too many times lately for it to be coincidence.

It was time to call the game for rain. To walk away. But if there was one thing Dean Winchester didn't want to do, it was walk away from his brother.


End file.
